The prince did not know yet that the Epanchins had left; he was struck, turned pale; but a moment later he shook his head, embarrassed and pensive, and admitted that "it had to be so"; after which he quickly asked "where did they go?"
Evgeny Pavlovich meanwhile watched him intently, and all of it —that is, the quickness of the questions, their simple-heartedness, the embarrassment, and at the same time some strange frankness, anxiousness, and agitation—all of it surprised him not a little. He, however, told the prince about everything courteously and in detaiclass="underline" there were many things the prince still did not know, and this was his first news from that house. He confirmed that Aglaya had indeed been sick, in a fever, and had hardly slept for three nights; that she was better now and out of all danger, but in a nervous, hysterical condition . . . "It's already a good thing that there is perfect peace in the house! They try not to allude to what happened, even among themselves, not only in front of Aglaya. The parents have discussed between them the possibility of going abroad in the autumn, right after Adelaida's wedding; Aglaya received the first mention of it in silence." He, Evgeny Pavlovich, might also go abroad. Even Prince Shch. might decide to go, for a couple of months, with Adelaida, if his affairs permitted. The general himself would stay. They had now all moved to Kolmino, their estate, about twenty miles from Petersburg, where they had a roomy mansion. Princess Belokonsky had not yet gone to Moscow and, it seemed, was even staying on purpose. Lizaveta Prokofyevna had strongly insisted that it was impossible to remain in Pavlovsk after all that had happened; he, Evgeny Pavlovich, had informed her every day of the rumors going around town. They also had not found it possible to settle in their dacha on Elagin Island.
"Well, yes, and in fact," Evgeny Pavlovich added, "you'll agree yourself, how could they stand it . . . especially knowing all that goes on here every hour, in your house, Prince, and after your daily visits
there,
"Yes, yes, yes, you're right, I wanted to see Aglaya Ivanovna . . ." The prince again began shaking his head.
"Ah, my dear Prince," Evgeny Pavlovich exclaimed suddenly, with animation and sadness, "how could you have allowed ... all
that to happen? Of course, of course, it was all so unexpected for you ... I agree that you were bound to be at a loss and . . . you couldn't have stopped the crazy girl, that was beyond your power! But you ought to have understood how serious and strong the girl's . . . attitude towards you was. She didn't want to share with the other one, and you . . . and you could abandon and break such a treasure!"
"Yes, yes, you're right; yes, I'm to blame," the prince said again in terrible anguish, "and you know: only she, only Aglaya, looked at Nastasya Filippovna that way . . . No one else looked at her that way."
"But that's what makes it so outrageous, that there was nothing serious in it!" cried Evgeny Pavlovich, decidedly carried away. "Forgive me, Prince, but . . . I . . . I've thought about it, Prince; I've thought a lot about it; I know everything that happened before, I know everything that happened half a year ago, everything, and— it was all not serious! It was all only a cerebral infatuation, a picture, a fantasy, smoke, and only the frightened jealousy of a totally inexperienced girl could have taken it for something serious!"
Here Evgeny Pavlovich, now completely without ceremony, gave free rein to all his indignation. Sensibly and clearly and, we repeat, even extremely psychologically, he unfolded before the prince the picture of all the prince's relations with Nastasya Filippovna. Evgeny Pavlovich had always had a gift for speaking; now he even attained to eloquence. "From the very beginning," he pronounced, "you began with a lie; what began with a lie was bound to end with a lie; that is a law of nature. I don't agree and even feel indignant when they—well, whoever—call you an idiot; you're too intelligent to be called that; but you're strange enough not to be like all other people, you'll agree. I've decided that the foundation of all that has happened was composed, first, of your, so to speak, innate inexperience (note that word, Prince: 'innate'), then of your extraordinary simple-heartedness; further, of a phenomenal lack of the sense of measure (which you've admitted several times)—and, finally, of an enormous, flooding mass of cerebral convictions, which you, with all your extraordinary honesty, have taken all along for genuine, natural, and immediate convictions! You yourself will agree, Prince, that your relations with Nastasya Filippovna from the very beginning had something conventionally democraticabout them (I put it that way for the sake of brevity), the charm, so to speak, of the 'woman question' (to put it still more briefly). I know
in exact detail that whole strange, scandalous scene that took place at Nastasya Filippovna's when Rogozhin brought his money. If you like, I'll analyze you for yourself, counting off on my fingers; I'll show you to yourself as in a mirror, so exactly do I know what it was about and why it turned out that way! You, a young man, longed for your native land in Switzerland, you strained towards Russia as towards a promised but unknown land; you read a lot of books about Russia, excellent books, perhaps, but harmful for you; you arrived with the initial fervor of the desire to act, you, so to speak, fell upon action! And so, on that same day they tell you a sad, heart-stirring story about an offended woman, they tell you, that is, a knight, a virgin, about a woman! On that same day you meet the woman; you're enchanted by her beauty, her fantastic, demonic beauty (I do agree that she's a beauty). Add nerves, add your falling sickness, add our nerve-shattering Petersburg thaw; add that whole day in an unknown and almost fantastic city, a day of encounters and scenes, a day of unexpected acquaintances, a day of the most unexpected reality, a day of the three Epanchin beauties, and Aglaya among them; add fatigue, dizziness; add Nastasya Filippovna's drawing room and the tone of that drawing room, and . . . what do you think you could have expected of yourself at that moment?"
"Yes, yes; yes, yes," the prince was shaking his head and beginning to blush, "yes, it was almost so; and, you know, I actually hardly slept all the previous night, on the train, or the night before, and I was very disconcerted ..."
"Well, of course, that's what I'm driving at," Evgeny Pavlovich went on vehemently. "It's clear that, drunk with rapture, you fell upon the opportunity of publicly proclaiming the magnanimous thought that you, a born prince and a pure man, did not find dishonorable a woman who had been disgraced through no fault of her own, but through the fault of a loathsome high-society debaucher. Oh, Lord, it's so understandable! But that's not the point, my dear Prince, the point is whether there was truth here, whether your feeling was genuine, was it natural, or was it only a cerebral rapture? What do you think: a woman was forgiven in the Temple, 46the same sort of woman, but was she told that she had done well and was worthy of all honor and respect? Didn't common sense whisper to you, after three months, telling you what it was about? Let her be innocent now—I don't insist, because I have no wish to—but can all her adventures justify such unbearable
demonic pride as hers, such insolent, such greedy egoism? Forgive me, Prince, I'm getting carried away, but . . ."
"Yes, that all may be; it may be that you're right . . ." the prince began to murmur again, "she really is very edgy, and you're right, of course, but ..."
"She deserves compassion? Is that what you want to say, my good Prince? But for the sake of compassion and for the sake of her good pleasure, was it possible to disgrace this other, this lofty and pure girl, to humiliate her before thosearrogant, before those hateful eyes? How far can compassion go, then? That is an incredible exaggeration! Is it possible, while loving a girl, to humiliate her so before her rival, to abandon her for the other one, right in front of that other one, after making her an honorable proposal yourself. . . and you did make her a proposal, you said it to her in front of her parents and sisters! Are you an honorable man after that, Prince, may I ask? And . . . and didn't you deceive a divine girl, after assuring her that you loved her?"